Sirius Black And His Interesting Thoughts
by bittersweet26
Summary: Sirius has sees the world in a slightly different light to other people, and has a habit of narrating his own life. A highlights package, if you will, of his more interesting thoughts. aka Remus/Sirius drabbles, non-chronological, from angst to fluff
1. My Name Is Sirius

**I've recently become addicted to the random drabbles style of writing. And I adore the puppy love. So, even though I can't do any of the characters justice, I couldn't resist. **

**Being written by me, angst will creep in here at some point, but so far I am fighting it off with acceptable levels of success. **

**Just for the record, I (try to) write my Sirius as a lovably bonkers sex god and my Remus** **does not spend all his time running off to cry in corners. James is smarter than he lets on and slight unintentional Peter-bashing may occur. **

**Disclaimer: Do you get as bored reading these as I do writing them?**

* * *

My name is Sirius Black. I always get what I want. This is because I am brilliant. I am also gorgeous, which doesn't hurt, and have enough charisma to drown in.

What? It isn't boasting if it's true.

As my dear mother likes to remind me, I am also a son of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. Cue the disdainful sniggering. Ancient is just about right, ancient and decrepit. Noble? By what fucking standards, if I may ask?

I knew from a very early on that I wasn't like them, with their narrow minded arrogance, their petty feuds and their prejudice. I love them because they are my family. That doesn't mean I have to _like_ them.

When I told this to James he looked at me oddly and said that I was a raving lunatic. So of course I hit him, and then took great pains to explain how loving someone isn't a choice, while liking someone is. I think he gets it now. Actually, I think he got it from the beginning but was just trying to make me say it out loud.

Sneaky bastard.

James is the only person I can talk to about my family. I can talk to him about anything, and he always talks to me. We've been friends long enough to trust each other with our fears.

Except for the fear I have right now, as we sit together on our way to our first year at Hogwarts School of Magic. The fear that things will change when we get there. That he won't talk to a Slytherin (don't give me that old crap about it being a choice, there is no chance in hell a Black is going to be anything other than a Slytherin…) and that I'll become the kind of Black I spend my family gatherings glaring at and/or attempting to give food poisoning.

I haven't told him about that fear. That one mine and mine alone.

Mine alone…and mine to ignore for now, because life is too short to waste it worrying. Besides, it sounds like Jamie boy has a very interesting new hex he wants to try out, apparently involving tentacles. Maybe we can try it on the kid in the corner. Seriously, sleeping on the train is asking for it. I catch James' eye and jerk my head in sleeping beauty's direction.

James isn't looking so keen on the idea. Typical. Big softy. To be fair, the kid doesn't look too well. He's very pale, and very thin. He has a scar on his hand, too. I can just see it, running along his knuckles and onto his first finger.

Maybe we should find someone else - oh, James is going for it. Damn. It seems to be working, too, he's muttering and his wand is glowing and…

Shit!

No way. There is no way that kid deflected the hex without a wand. No one is that strong, no one our age. James is frozen in shock, staring at the scorch mark on the window. I can't break eye contact with the boy. His eyes are… they're almost like a frightened animal, wide and wary and ready to flee.

Well, this is very awkward.

The train chooses this moment to stop, and he's out the door before I can blink. Of course. So conveniently timed that it's just like a goddamn movie. I experience the interesting sensation of being simultaneously relieved and disappointed.

How odd.

My name is Sirius Black and I always get what I want. Right now I want to find out some more about the boy with the scar.


	2. Please Don't Bleed On My Shoes

**I just want to reiterate: these drabbles are not chronological. They follow no logical order. They will jump around like fleas on meth, because that is how I roll. **

**If you don't like that, I understand completely. Press the back button and save yourself some time. Go find a nice, linear epic multi-chapter to sink your teeth into. There are plenty of good ones out there. **

**(What I mean is I promise I will follow on and explain how they became friends after that not too great introduction at some point.)**

**Disclaimer: Hey, if I'm noticed enough to get sued that's one hell of a compliment. Which is why, of course, it is never going to happen.**

* * *

"You're an idiot, you know that don't you Sirius?"

"Mmmph."

"Tip your head back, Siri, or you'll get blood all over your shirt."

"_Mmmm_mmmmph… get off me! Leave my nose alone!"

"Fine, but don't come crying to me when you need to buy new robes."

"Oh, just bugger off."

"I'm not sure I should. You might try to take on half of Slytherin again."

"You heard what he said!"

"I did. And so did Peter and so did Remus - who was the one actually being insulted, in case you didn't notice. We all managed to ignore it."

"So? I just don't like it when people bother Remus."

"Yeah, well that's because you have a crush on him, isn't it?"

Yeah, like that has any affect on…What?! Hang on a second… What the hell did he just say?

Pause everything. Mental rewind…

"_Yeah, well that's because you have a crush on him, isn't it?"_

I cannot comprehend what I am hearing. There has been a mistake. I can't have heard it right.

Replay. Replay it slow.

"_Ye-ah… we-ll…. tha-t's… be-cau-se… yo-u… ha-ve… a… cru-sh… on… hi-m… is-n't… it…?"_

Nononono! Bullshit! I _clearly_ do not have a crush on Remus. Sirius Black doesn't have 'crushes' on anybody. The reverse, obviously, is often true. There are many lovely little girls and boys out there who want a piece of me. And I like to share, because I'm just that generous. But having a crush - that sort of thing just doesn't happen to me. No bloody way.

"What the fuck are you on about, Potter?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Potter is off his head. Besides, Remus is – Remus. That's just weird. I mean, the guy is my _friend_. My mate. I would even go so far as to say he's my _brother_. And incest is wrong! Although coming from a Black that's almost a joke… come to think of it, that's a half-decent explanation for quite a few things. Like my cousins.

"Admit it, Sirius. You're so bloody obvious about it. I think it would be a good match – he's probably the only person who could keep you in line."

What's that supposed to mean, exactly? Is he insinuating that I can be _controlled_? By Remus, of all people?

Now that is very funny.

That is fucking _hilarious._

Ok, maybe he's creepily good at the whole sarcasm thing. The way he can always come up with a biting comment to deflate you. The way he just gives you that look and you feel like a four-year-old caught sitting in a rapidly spreading pool of melted ice-cream and cake mix, the cupboard door hanging off because there's a broomstick through it.

Uh, not that I would know what that feels like. Ahem.

His problem is that he's too nice. He holds back. He has this limitless patience, even when Pettigrew is asking him exactly the same question he asked twelve times in class and another three times walking down the corridor. Even when James and I accidentally-on-purpose turn his hair purple.

Now James is smirking. I'm gonna hit him. I mean it. This kind of narrow-minded stereotyping is unacceptable. Just because I'm bisexual (let's be honest here, I'm just plain sexual, but some people need their little labels) does not mean all I want is to get into everyone's pants.

It's not as if I even think Remus is that attractive. He's not. Not conventionally, anyway. He's too delicate, too fragile looking. But somehow not feminine. Odd, that. He's too thin, the scrawny little bugger. He has pretty eyes, I'll give him that. A soft brown-gold that matches his hair. And he has this sort of vulnerable intensity when he…

Oh shit.

I have a crush on Remus Lupin.

_Oh shit._


	3. It's Not A Gang, It's A Posse

**Sirius is anything but subtle. And he doesn't take no for an answer. At least, that's how I see it. Hence this piece of silliness.**

**Disclaimer: Holograph, tumbleweed, banana split and copious amounts of absinthe. Yay!**

* * *

Whenever there is a void, the void must be filled. The closest available material must be gathered, twisted, shaped to fit. At Hogwarts, the things that were needed to fill this particular void were people with brilliance, people with charm, people who could inject a healthy dose of defiance into the stuffy and overly reverential student body.

In the case of James Potter and myself, very little shaping was required. This school was just _waiting_ for people like us.

And yet, something is missing.

We've picked up a few hangers on. Girls, of course, who follow James around with their tongues hanging out and give me moon-eyes every time I venture down a corridor. Then there are the ones who want to _be_ us. James in particular seems to have got himself a one-boy fan club in the shape of a kid called Peter…uh… something. A chubby fellow who trots along beside him with a look of insipid adoration. Jamie seems quite fond of the little guy. Seeing as he shares a room with us, he's basically unavoidable…

Ah. Yes. I forgot about that, didn't I? I apologise. Bad storytelling on my part. I bet you are wondering how on earth I could be sharing a room with James, aren't you? Here's the thing; I actually got sorted into Gryffindor! Yes, you heard right. A _Black_ is in Gryffindor.

I'll let you have a moment to absorb the full impact of that one.

The multitude of Blacks in the Slytherin hierarchy were _not_ pleased. As far as I know, my parents haven't found out yet. I'm going to try and keep it that way for a little longer. Like, maybe forever. Or as close as I can possibly get.

Pettigrew! That's it. I knew I'd remember eventually. The kid's name is Peter Pettigrew. I think James enjoys the steady, unabated flow of admiration. I don't really understand it, but being in possession of an almost saint-like modesty myself I don't suppose I would. Anyway, I can't complain about James trying to make this Pettigrew a part of 'us'… whatever the hell that is…because I think that is what is missing. It can't just be Potter and Black forever. We're too similar, for one thing. Besides, I have my eyes on someone too. When I said I wanted to know more about scar-boy from the train incident, I meant it.

His name is Remus Lupin. The name wasn't hard to find out, what with them lining us up like lambs to the slaughter to put on that bloody hat. But apart from that, not much. He's like a bloody ghost – doesn't speak, doesn't really associate with anyone, does his work quietly in the corner. As far as I can make out he isn't from any prestigious family (a relief, to be honest) but he isn't muggle-born either, because the Slytherins haven't targeted him.

Or, at least, they weren't targeting him until he stood up for that red-haired muggle-born girl. Announced, calm as you please, that he had gone to a muggle primary school and would be happy to explain to her why her tellymafone-thingy wasn't working. He didn't even look in the direction of the half-dozen of Lucius Malfoy's cronies hovering around.

James was so impressed he even allowed himself to be talked into apologizing for trying to hex him on the train. With the one condition that I did too. Now, I don't usually do apologies. They aren't my style. But we gave it a shot, and to our immense relief Remus waved the apology away before we (meaning James) had really gotten started.

"Hey…I.. well, we…it's just that…on the train, uh - "

"It's fine, really."

"Really? Excellent!"

"Yeah, that's great! Friends, then?"

He gave us the oddest look, but nodded with a twitch of the lips that could have been a smile.

All in all, it was a lot easier than I expected. I'm feeling quite good about the whole thing. Positively exuberant, in fact. Plus, I've arranged a great surprise for him… ah! There he is.

"Remus! C'mon, mate, hurry up."

"I'm sorry?"

"C'mon. We're having a little celebration, welcoming you to our room."

"What?"

He's giving me that weird look again. Geez, it isn't difficult to understand. What is with this guy?

"Uh… Black, I already have a room… and you already have three roommates…"

"Not anymore! I did some swapping around. I had the house elves move your bags for you. And call me Sirius."

He's looking even more bemused now. Seriously, does no one know what friendliness is anymore? I even organised everything for him. Why is he looking at me like that? He should be happy.

"You… moved my things?"

"Absolutely. No time for waiting around. You're one of _us_ now."

"Us?"

"Us."

"Right…"

He looks down at his hands, and I have the crazy idea that he might actually refuse me. It certainly seems like he's struggling with something, making some sort of decision.

"Well? Are you coming, Remus?"

A long pause. Too long. Then he looks up.

"Uh, I… yeah. Yeah, I'm coming."

"Well then, _hurry up!_"

Four. It's a great number, really. Much better than, say, two. Like the three musketeers, only even better. Four can be marvelous, mad, magical, mischievous, and marauding musketeers. And with Remus, now we are four.

Whenever there is a void, the void must be filled. At least, that's my theory. And I'm sticking to it.


	4. They Call It Karma

**This is a drabble even by drabble standards – a drabblet? Drabblini? Anyway, it's very short and basically written for Mopcat, who is so lovely, and also WorldBMine, Eternity Curse, LoverFaery and HMxEB4ever. **

…**and, of course, I wanted to put in some Remus sexiness. **

**Disclaimer: INSERT GENERIC BUCK-PASSING HERE**

* * *

There is no better place than the dinner table to ponder on the injustices of the world.

It's the unfairness of it that bothers me. The way Remus seems to be able to see into my soul without any effort at all while I - _the _Sirius Black, goddammit – am left in a constant state of bewilderment. The way I can never interpret that sideways glance, that raising of the eyebrow, that slight catch in Remus' voice. The way that every time I think that I've finally got it Remus will go and say something unexpected and confusing. He's so damn… so damn _Remus._

Enigmatic. That's the word. Lovely word, rolls off the tongue. Enigmatic. Remus Lupin, enigma. Remus the enigmatic Lupin. The enigmatic enigma that is Remus Lupin…

Focus, Sirius.

Nobody else is a problem. Pettigrew is as good at hiding his emotions as he is at quidditch. If you've ever seen him try to dodge a bludger you will realise just how bad that is. He twitches when he's lying, and if that doesn't give it away the fact that he's suddenly developed an intense stutter will. To be fair though, Pete has a reasonable grasp of subtlety. He knows when to keep his mouth shut and let me and James do the talking.

As for Jamie boy – the kid is an open book. He doesn't try to hide a thing from _anyone_. Never has. He says it shows his natural honesty and bravery. Personally I think it shows that he's borderline loony. Take the whole thing with that Evans girl, for example. He likes her. Fair enough. She isn't bad looking, I suppose, but my god she's a harpy…what on earth does he see in her? For that matter, what does Remus see in her? He talks to her so much you'd think they were going out. That is clearly not going to happen, because Remus wouldn't _do_ that… because _my_ Remus would never _ever_ like Lily bloody Evans…

Focus. Focus on the point.

What is the point? Oh, wait. I remember now. The point is, Jamie has a crush on the girl, and instead of doing the normal, decent thing and trying to impress her by hitting someone or pulling a spectacular prank or writing poetry or whatever it is lovesick teenagers do… he stands up on the bloody table in the great hall and announces to the whole school that he, James Potter, is in love with Lily Evans, and that he will be going out with her within a year.

I swear to god the man is an idiot. That's probably why I love him. I think I'd go completely mad without James around. He's more my brother than that git who happens to share my parents ever was.

Oh, no. What did I do? What did I do to deserve this?

It really isn't fair. Remus has chocolate mousse, and he's eating slowly. Putting it in his mouth and then… oh, holy fuck. I am officially jealous of a dessert spoon.

"Sirius?"

"Hmmm?"

"Sirius, what is up with you? I wanna know what you think about – "

La la la la… honestly, Prongs should know better. I do love him, but how can he expect me to concentrate when Remus is currently giving that spoon what appears to be the single greatest blowjob ever witnessed by mankind?

I think I'm going to go have a shower. A cold shower.


End file.
